


Violent Delights

by Nickidemus



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nickidemus/pseuds/Nickidemus
Summary: Mercutio's prank goes a little farther than he intended.





	

It began merely as a jest. Sneak into the bath, where Romeo was resting and completely unaware. Give Romeo a start, say something deliciously witty. It was Mercutio's game to be a trickster. The result was Romeo springing up as if at an enemy, but Mercutio had somewhat anticipated this. He usually did. It sent them chasing around the room like wayward boys, Mercutio all laughter and wild calls.

Until Romeo caught him up. He really did seem angry, and Mercutio didn't want to fight him. But a joke, friend. Do not hate your Mercutio. Trying to sweeten and wheedle and pet. Panting in one another's faces.

Then the dream. The thing for which Mercutio begged himself to never hope. Romeo, the one who sighed over maidens, who chased them with his hand out. Who fell in love as often as the sun set, but always with women. He shocked them both then with a searing kiss on the lips that Mercutio felt to the very core. It burned him and stirred his blood so that he ached at once. The sound he made against Romeo's lips was downright desperate yet full of relief.

It really was a fight then, to undress Mercutio as thoroughly as Romeo already was. To touch and wind together. Romeo's grip on Mercutio's member was needful and rough, stroking mercilessly, taking Mercutio's breath. He could feel a tremor in Romeo as he lowered his dark head to Mercutio's shoulder and nipped, then bit, leaving his mark.

Mercutio was overwhelmed. He was being awarded the thing he'd so long desired, but he was hardly a pushover. He grappled in turn, forcing Romeo's mouth up to his for another of those burning kisses, clawing, leaving his own marks. Two wrestling wolves.

Yet Romeo fought for the advantage, pressing him to the wall, the two of them rubbing and slipping together, heat and hardness sliding along one another. First just the press of bodies, then the added pleasure of hands, swirling around seeping tips. Until, too soon it felt, they surged and bathed each other. Mercutio, desperate to hold the moment, dropped down to lick Romeo clean. A worshiper at an altar.

Until Romeo pressed him away, though not unkindly. Then slipped into the bathwater once more. Mercutio was disheveled, mostly undressed, his blond hair fallen over his eyes. He laughed. Never had a game had such a lovely end.


End file.
